


Claws & Fangs Can Fix Things

by DeathCrowned



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Body Horror, Claws, Grumpy Old Men, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Monster Reaper, Monsters, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reaper76 - Freeform, Save Me, fangs, fucking kill me now, i'm addicted to this pairing..., i'm so gay, please fucking help me..., probably forgot some tags lbr, send help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9303404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathCrowned/pseuds/DeathCrowned
Summary: Jack isn’t sure what’s so alluring about the countless number of eyes and the endless sharp fangs that litter Reaper’s face, but that’s not what he’s thinking about when he’s pulling the wraith closer to him, with said fangs digging into his neck and nipping at it gently. Or, well, as gently as they could.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A//N: Overwatch does NOT belong to me and I do not claim they do. I do not get paid for any of this and I do it for fun. Overwatch and all of its assets belong to Jeff Kaplan and the Overwatch team.
> 
> A//N²: More of my writing on Ao3 for you lovelies to read, eyy. :^) I hope you like it. I wrote this for another of my babes @tumblr and I'm totally gross for monster Reaper so somebody calm me the FUCK down.
> 
> Warning: This work contains light blood play, claws, fangs, body horror (monster Gabe), biting/bite marks and relatively rough yet loving sex, woo. I really suggest not to read this if you are against this kind of stuff. The tags are there for a reason, avoid works with these tags like the plague if subjects like these bother you. I do not and will not claim responsibility for you and your butt getting triggered by my works because you didn't read the tags.

| ● ● | **Jack** isn’t sure what’s so alluring about the _countless_ number of eyes and the _endless_ sharp fangs that litter Reaper’s face, but that’s not what he’s thinking about when he’s pulling the wraith closer to him, with said fangs digging into his neck and nipping at it gently. Or, well, as gently as they could.

| ● ● | **If** anybody asked, Jack is _definitely_ not _openly_  rutting against the _godly_ thigh that is pressed against his crotch, rubbing slow and teasing circles against him. A multitude of profanities and pleas escape scarred lips as his back arches at a particularly rough bite to the neck, hips pressing back against the leg that in turn rubs just a little bit harder against his straining length.  


| ● ● | **The** soldier’s reactions have Reaper chuckle darkly from his position latched onto his neck, and it causes a shudder to run down his spine, the tiniest of gasps pushing out of his chest at the light vibrations on his neck. He never knew he was so into _biting_ before Reaper had suggested it to him, and at first he had been hesitant but now that he was quite _literally_ an animal in heat? Jack didn’t think he should have been.  


| ● ● | **There’s** barely enough time to react as a clawed hand makes its way into his pants, one talon moving to open the button of his pants and free his erection from the confines of his trousers. A thumb ghosted over him, pressing down on certain spots as that  _god-forsaken maw_  continued to work his shoulders and neck, leaving behind small traces of red behind; the tiniest beads of blood from the puncture marks that littered his already scarred skin.  


| ● ● | **Jack** _swears_ that the only thing leaving his mouth right now are _bittersweet_ moans, one hand clutching at the back of Reaper’s head- or what was left of it?- pale digits clinging at the materialized nanites, the smoke brushing against his hand almost _lovingly_. The other hand is clenched around the sheets of the bed that was in the room of the sleazy motel they had gone to- as two wanted people; one terrorist and one vigilante, they couldn’t exactly afford to show themselves in places with lots of people.  


| ● ● | **Three** - _or was it more? or less? they kept changing_ \- sets of crimson eyes watch Jack when Reaper pulls away, the wraith purring _dangerously_  as he brings both his hands towards pale hips and pulls the soldier’s pants off, throwing them over his shoulder without a care. The hands are back at his sides in less than a second, _clawing_ to get the boxers off Jack’s gorgeous legs- some of the eyes narrowing eagerly at the sight of the leaking organ jumping up, still as hard as when they first started.  


| ● ● | **He** has the soldier wrapped around his little finger, he could easily make the man _beg_ for him but Reaper was painfully hard himself, and all he wanted was to be in that _tight_ heat, _ravaging_ Jack’s insides and having him come undone _without_ actually touching him, _yes-_ He leans over the blind man under him, reaching for the drawer next to the bed and pulling out a bottle of lube. “Spread yourself open, I don’t want to hurt you by accident- even though I know you’d _love_ that, wouldn’t you?”  


| ● ● | **Reaper** relishes in the frown on Jack’s face and he drops the bottle onto the other’s chest before his hands move to both of his cheeks and spread him open, smoky black tongue lolling out cheekily at the squirm he was given in response. A pale hand, now lubed up, however, moves down nonetheless, passing over his length and balls, then meekly pressing against the ring of muscles that twitched at the slightest touch.  


| ● ● | **“If** you don’t hurry, I’ll use my tongue and _fuck you open_ with it until you’re _screaming_ for me, _Jack_.” The words have Jack blush furiously and he pushes his finger in suddenly, a surprised and slightly uncomfortable gasp leaving him at the intrusion. He can feel Reaper’s grin grow, he doesn’t know _how_ but he can _always_ feel it whenever the other man is grinning. He works himself open, glad he can’t _see_ the look on Reaper’s face now because it’s already embarrassing enough to _feel_ his gaze on him.  


| ● ● | **With** cheeks dusted a dark crimson, Jack adds another finger, bringing his lower lip between his teeth and worrying the scarred flesh as he spreads and curls and _scissors_ the digits inside him, adding a third finger only when he deems himself ready. He didn’t notice he’d been making sounds; what were mostly pained sounds were now completely pleasured moans with only a hint of pain- _just the way Jack liked it_.  


| ● ● | **“You’re** _damn_ beautiful, Jack.” The soldier grumbles something in response, protesting that; _no_ , he wasn’t beautiful but it turns into a _whine_ when his hand is suddenly pulled out of him. It’s short-lived, though, because Reaper is settling himself in between Jack’s legs, pulling him closer with one leg then letting it fall over his shoulder, the other laying comfortably on the other side.  


| ● ● | **The** wraith slides one hand down to his own pants, unbuckling them and slipping them down just enough to reveal his own erection, grabbing it and position it against Jack’s entrance, _teasingly_ rolling his hips and pressing it again- a  _predatory_ grin spreading on his features. “ _Beautiful_.” He doesn’t give his _lover_ the chance to respond because he sheathes himself in one thrust, the grin only _growing_.  


| ● ● | **Jack’s** breath leaves him in a _startled_ moan, the hand that had fallen from behind Reaper’s head flew to cover his mouth as the other wrenched itself into the sheets again. “ _Shit_ , so damn tight, _Jackie_.” Once Jack can feel himself adjusting to Reaper’s size, he reaches up for the wraith, urging him to come closer to him and the other obliges instantly, latching his fangs onto the soldier’s shoulder blade and biting down roughly, eliciting another moan from the man under him.  


| ● ● | **His** breath is stolen from him as bloody lips- and fangs- crash against his, nipping at his lips, tongue lapping at the scarred tissue until he’s granted access. Jack arm snakes around Reaper’s neck, pulling him further against him and he rolls his hips slightly, signalling that he’s adjusted enough and ready for Reaper to start moving.

| ● ● | **By** no means does the wraith start slowly; the bed _creaks_ with every _ruthless_ thrust into him, ripping a moan out of his chest that is muffled by the other’s lips against his. The smoky tendril that serves as a tongue shoves itself into his mouth, exploring every nook and cranny as Reaper continues to _pound_ into Jack- muffled gasps and pants sounding from the shorter man. The wraith pulls away only so he can revel in the flushed expression on the soldier’s face, free hand moving to pin down Jack’s, their fingers intertwining in an automatism.

| ● ● | **Both** of them know they won’t last for much longer, and that is only proven further when Reaper’s wild thrusts are angled _just right_ to push against his prostate and the way he stops his movements and still completely when he gets there has Jack nearly _wheeze for breath_ as a choked moan escapes him. It takes only a few more of those thrusts, now _dangerously_ slow and teasing with every thrusting pressing a bit _rougher_ against the bundle of nerves inside him, for him to be shoved over the edge, covering his stomach and chest with multiple spurts of white. The irregular tightening around Reaper’s length has the wraith let out a low moan, shoving their lips together once again as he spilled his seed inside of Jack, painting his walls white.

| ● ● | **Reaper**  pulls out of and away from the younger man, a wild grin on his lips, though it morphs into a genuine smile at Jack’s next words. “I love you, Gabe…” He turns the two of them around, pulling Jack up into his arms, chuckling lightly at the quiet groan of protest as he is jostled into a more comfortable position for the both of them. He wraps his arms around Reaper chest, hooking them under his armpits and then snuggles up to him, burying his face between his neck and shoulder, letting his eyes fall closed. “Love you too, Jack.”


End file.
